Fugitive (sequel to Becoming Atlantian)

Chapter 19

There was no way to accurately describe the feelings coursing through Aubrey's body. Her surroundings were both familiar and completely foreign. So much had changed. As had become part of her routine, Aubrey pressed her hands to the floor beside her, sighing as the magical energy of Atlantis rose up to greet her. It was like coming home. Her stomach, which has been fluttering with nerves only moments before, settled. Magic settled over her skin, soothing away the anxious energy, as if she had been wrapped in a comforting embrace.

How had she been oblivious to this for so long? Feeling magic had become as natural as breathing in such a short space of time. It was potent here in comparison to Earth. It buffeted against her from sun up to sun down; held her close through the nights. It had quickly become a part of her and the thought of no longer experiencing these sensations had a lump forming in her throat.

A knock on the door to her new chambers drew Aubrey from her introspection. Slowing opening her eyes, her lips pursed at the lavishly decorated space. The previous occupier has clearly had a love for all things silk and velvet. The materials were woven into every piece of furnishings within the room; whether it be the silken sheets on the bed or the purple velvet covering the walls.

Knock. KNOCK. The sound grew louder and with each bang, increasing with urgency with each blow. Pushing up her position on the exposed stone floor, Aubrey drew in a deep breath before drawing open the door.

"Finally," a shrill voice greeted from behind a bundle of cloth and perfume, before the owner of the voice barrelled past her into the room. "What took you so long? The ceremony is in just a few short hours. That's not nearly enough time."

"Nice to see you too." Aubrey replied dryly, holding the door open for his faithful assistants before shutting it softly. A part of her wished she was on the other side of the door, far from the noise and fussing which would soon follow.

"Yes, lovely to see you." Jem muttered, the master tailor draping his cargo across the end of her bed before spinning on his heels to examine her.

As part of her appointment to Matriarch, there was the expectation that she dress accordingly. Aubrey had quickly become acquainted with man who took to design and tailoring with an artists' flare and a critical eye for detail.

And unfortunately, she was the latest object of his keen attention. His eyes examined her from head to toe, his experienced gaze passing over every feature and flaw. Yet, despite the intensity of his stare, there was nothing sexual or untoward in his gaze. It was merely the stare of an artist peering at the potential of a blank canvas. After a moment, he nodded his head and clicked his fingers impatiently at his assistant.

A plain white robe was placed into his waiting hand before he thrust it towards Aubrey. "Shower and then come back in this." Jem ordered, shaking it before him when she made no attempt to take the garment. "Please."

The hours passed quickly. After being poked, prodded, and pruned, Aubrey no longer felt anxious about what was to come, or that she was being manhandled by an acquaintance. Instead, she only hoped time would move faster so she could get away from all of the attentive hands. Aubrey had almost forgotten what it was like to be hugged or touched in a way that didn't involve some attack upon her life or wasn't some impersonal part of a training regime. Yet, in the space of a few hours she had been reverently massaged with scented oil. Now, every time she moved, soft fragrance filled the air around her and her muscles were soft and warm.

Her hair had been tamed from the fuzzy halo into soft curls which gleamed with health. A single curl rested upon her brow, just at the edge of her vision. Reaching up, she attempted to touch her hair only for a voice to bark, "No."

Dropping her hand away from her hair, Aubrey turned to fiddle with the hem of the ornate robe hanging before her. It was beautiful. One of the most beautiful things she had ever seen and it somehow felt incredible that it had been made for her.

"Jem, this is incredible." She muttered, her fingers tracing over the intricate golden embroidery on the cuffs of the sleeves. A hand quickly slapped her fingers away.

"I know," he replied, before carefully drawing it down from the hanger. "But it will all be for nothing if you pull a thread before all of Atlantis gets to see it. Now, arms out."

Obediently, Aubrey held out her arms as the deep green robe was wrapped around her body with care. The cool silk quickly warmed against her skin. Yet, Aubrey barely had time to acknowledge the sensation before the hands which had been gently straightening out the creases, settled upon her shoulders.

"I am done." Jem announced, earning him murmurs of appreciation from his assistants.

He turned her carefully towards the mirror and Aubrey sucked in a sharp breath at the stranger staring back at her. She was – dare she think it – beautiful. It was something Aubrey couldn't even remember feeling. At least, not for a long time. Jem had highlighted her best features. The green shade of the fabric made her skin glow with health and her red curls gleamed. Even her eyes had changed. Not the colour. It was something else. Something intangible and yet so clear to her.

Her grandmother had always called her an old soul. For one, Aubrey felt like it as the weight of her Atlantian life stared back at her.

Raising a shaky hand to her forehead, she blew out a slow steadying breath. In the distance, loud drumming a steady pulsing beat. Her heart quickly sped up to match the vibrant rhythm. Atlantis's magic hummed beneath her bare feet giving her the courage she needed.

"Are you ready to go?" Jem asked, his eyes kind as he watched her reflection. When she nodded, he clicked his fingers and his assistants sprang into action. One opened the door while the other gathered the train behind her.

Jem moved to stand in front of her before he gently raised the delicate hood of the robe so that it was draped over her head and framed her features. Then, moving to the side, he dipped into a low bow before murmuring, "Matriarch."

Aubrey hesitated. This was the moment. It was the moment which changed everything. Once she stepped through the doors before her, everything would change. She could never go back. Aubrey drew in a deep breath through her nose and blew out slowly.

Swallowing past her suddenly dry throat, Aubrey nodded her head and pulled back her shoulders. Then, putting one foot in front of the other as she stepped towards her future.